James Potter and the Lonely Dog
by HarryPotterRules2
Summary: This is how I imagine James Potter's first year at Hogwarts to be like.
1. Preface

**Preface**

I know what you're thinking; Well, this is new. Yes, it is for I am not righting Harry Potter's story in a new way that fits your wants perfectly. No. I'm writing his father's story to every detail of what J.K. Rowling portrayed it as but also in the way I imagined it. So when you read on to see the past don't expect any comfortable changes like Harry turning up there. No. This is the almost-true story of James Potter's school life.

Well, I won't delay you your read any longer…


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: It's all JK Rowling's and none's mine, people!**

 **Chapter One**

 **Growing Up With The Potters**

Some would say James was brought up like a Prince. James himself believed he had been brought up like a king but he would never admit that for he believed you had to earn the things you boast of. Yes, James had always been a very proud boy. Even as a baby, the moment he learnt to lift his head he would always hold it as high as it allowed him. But this didn't mean he was self-confident. He had all the same worries as everyone else but would always cover it up with a self-righteous joke or prank. This, he believed, was the correct way to be brave about things, like gaining his magic abilities. Oh what a funny day that was.

James grew up in a beautiful mansion named Potter Manor where he had taken his first steps (but soon after had grazed knee for running around the place like a lunatic in celebration) and said his first word. That was quite a beautiful tale but for another day. Anyway, his home was covered inch by inch in a white so pure that if you looked at it too long then you get an awful headache and trust me it had many inches to fill. At this time, James was a classic 7-year-old boy. He was obsessed with the most famous sport ever, except it wasn't football, it was a game called Quidditch. In this game 7 players (3 Chasers, 2 Beaters, a Keeper and a Seeker) flew around a pitch on broomsticks. The Chasers had to try and throw the Quaffle (a maroon, football-sized ball) through 1 of the 3 hoops on the other team's side of the pitch, 10 points is awarded every time a team scores. The Keeper had to try and stop the other team's Chasers from scoring in their own hoops. The Beaters held bats in their hands to stop the Bludger (a ball that flies around trying to knock anyone off of their broom) from hitting their own players and hit it towards the other team's players. The Seeker has the most important job, they must catch the Golden Snitch (a tiny, golden ball that has wings to help it fly really, really fast) before the other team's Seeker does. This ends the game and gives the team that caught it an extra 150 points. James desperately wanted to be a Chaser.

All of his family thought he would want to be a Seeker as James always liked to be the most important thing, or so they thought. But no, James wanted to be the World's Best Seeker and it is this that brought on his powers. James didn't have any siblings but he did have 1 neighbour, the Longbottoms. The Longbottoms were almost as rich as the Potters and just as pure-blooded (not that it mattered to either family) and they had a son about the same age as James called Frank. Now, you must understand, at the age of 7 James' whole life revolved around Quidditch. He had Quidditch posters, magazines, toy broomsticks, real broomsticks and, of course, all of the balls. These things were merely tokens to James, the thing his life truly revolved around was his chosen Quidditch team – The Montrose Magpies. They were, in some people's opinion, the best team in the league but little Frank didn't seem to think so.

"Hmmm… No, I think Ballycastle Bats beat Montrose Magpies by far."

What a silly thing to say.

James wasn't just angry or hurt; he was absolutely furious and mortally wounded. James was just about to yell quite a few nasty words he had once caught his father saying when Frank's hair turned pink. It wasn't pastel pink or an other pleasant kind of pink, oh no, it was a vivid, neon pink. But alas, it didn't stop there…

As well as Franks' hair going from vivid pink to all of the colours of the rainbow he began to gain spots. So many spots it was soon difficult to tell if it was really Frank or not but alas, it _still_ didn't stop there. His hair began to turn black, as if finally deciding what colour it felt like being. In fact, everything about him began to turn black – even his clothes. Then, all of a sudden, poof… Frank was a bat.

At this point, James was rolling on the floor laughing himself silly at the beautiful revenge he hadn't meant to make until his mother and father arrived to tell him dinner was ready. That turned his smile upside down, well, until he noticed that his father was also laughing himself silly and his mother was looking the upmost proud (he later found out that this was only because he had down magic, although James could have sworn he saw amusement in her eyes). This was not the last of the amazing things James Potter did for from that day on, James Potter fell in love with something that wasn't Quidditch; pranks…

From that day onwards, anyone who infuriated the infamous James Potter would feel the mighty wrath of his ingenious pranks. The first to feel his wrath was poor, old Mrs Longbottom.

It was a bright, sunny day when it happened. The kind of day when you would least expect anything horrible to happen to you. This was very unfortunate as poor, old Mrs Longbottom might have been only slightly more prepared for what was coming for her. On this day, Mrs Longbottom hadn't done anything to offend James – she just happened to be the best candidate who popped into his head. This was a test run of the amazing prank skills he just knew he had. He had thought of Frank first, of course, but then again Frank was now so terrified of James' new found powers (Frank hadn't got his yet) that he ran away from James whenever he caught sight of him so James figured he just wouldn't do for his first attempt. Then, he had thought of his own parents and shuddered at the thought of the punishments that he would gain from it. James didn't think he could handle another week without flying his brand new, best of the age broomstick around his parents private Quidditch pitch. He had then, obviously, thought of Frank's parents (as they were his only other neighbours apart from Frank himself) but had yet again shuddered at the thought of pranking probably the best Auror of all time – minus his parents – so he had settled on the easiest target he could get at the moment. Mrs Longbottom…

James was just coming home from Zonko's Joke Shop (his father had spoken of its absolute greatness many times) when a perfect plan formed in his mind. He had, of course, had an idea of what he wanted to happen but he hadn't been so sure how to, well, _make_ it happen. She'll never see it coming, he thought, and by golly, he was right. From Zonko's he had bought a very fine potion that did most mischievous things to the person who was foolish enough to drink it. The beauty of it was all James had to do was get Mrs Longbottom to drink it and then he could sit back and enjoy the show. Now, with a formulated plan in his mind, he could begin.

Instead of making the usual trip back home James Potter went straight to Mrs Longbottom's house, along with the fantastical potion. As he waited for the door to open for his knock he went through his master plan in his mind just one more time before the door opened abruptly.

"Oh hello, James," said Frank. "What are you doing here? You don't usually come near dinnertime."

"Mum's making lasagne today and you know I just hate the stuff," replied James, inwardly smiling and revelling in his newly found acting skills. "I wondered if I could eat here today?"

"Erm… sure, James."

"Great!"

In he went. The Longbottoms' house was truly spectacular (although not quite as much as the Potters' house) with its tall, marble staircase and about 20 spare, deluxe bedrooms. That was one thing the Potters didn't have was many spare bedrooms as most of them were filled with top secret Ministry of Magic objects. James knew this because he had broken into them all out of curiosity. All except 1 which was sealed so shut that even James' troublesome mind couldn't find a way through its door. James forced his mind back into the present so he could have a very successful first prank – he took this all very seriously.

"Mum, James wants to have dinner her. Is that OK?" yelled Frank.

"Of course, Sweetie! I'm so happy that you've made a friend!" replied Mrs Longbottom a little too enthusiastically.

"Well, I probably would have made more if I had other neighbours," Frank muttered but only James heard him as it was no louder than a whisper.

Soon enough the table was laid with food and cutlery alike, Mr Longbottom had returned from work and everyone was seated (James opposite Mrs Longbottom). Now, unlike the Potters, the Longbottoms were a little religious. Not so religious that they bothered to go to Wizard and Witch's Church _every_ Sunday but they did pray before their meals. James, not believing in God himself, felt no guilt whatsoever when he silently pored the potion into Mrs Longbottom's half-full goblet while they were all praying. When they finally stopped praying Mrs Longbottom made an unusual toast (probably to impress me, thought James) to God thanking him for Quidditch and treacle tarts. James couldn't even bring himself to say a little "Hear, hear" in reply to this as he was ever so excited about his first ever prank! You'll remember this forever, he thought as he watched Mrs Longbottom take a long swig from her goblet. What happened next was so fast and funny that it took the unprepared two (Frank and Mr Longbottom) a few moments to understand what was happening.

Mrs Longbottom's head was swelling. The bigger her head grew the smaller her body seemed to become. It came to a point that only James knew whether the head was swelling or the body was shrinking. Oh how he laughed at the sight of this. You see James thought the big head went really well with her character as he had seen her, a great number of times, pushing Frank so hard with either the way he was presented or his intelligence. James had always had a sneaky suspicion she was doing it to make her look good (although he never doubted her love for her son). Perhaps Frank and Mr Longbottom also had that opinion as after they got over the shock they had joined James in his fit of laughter or maybe it was just that her head was now so big she couldn't hold it up so it had fell into her plate full of macaroni cheese.

By the end of this very fun day James was surprised to find out that his parents weren't angry at him. On the contrary, they were quite proud. Apparently, both of them thought that it took a lot of brains for somebody to be able to do a prank that brilliantly (especially for a 7-year-old) planned. When his parents are proud of him, James goes onto another level of arrogance so powerful that anybody who hears him beginning to gloat better run away (screaming preferably) very fast because if you don't then there's no stopping him. This James is a very dangerous boy indeed for if you listen you die of boredom and if you don't James would prank straight to purgatory. Frank avoided him for weeks.

Over many years, this was how James lived: pranks and Quidditch. Although he practically worshipped both dangerous sports he was missing something – something big, and it took a few years for James to figure out what but when he did he was pretty devastated. He was missing friends. He loved his parents and most definitely liked Mr and Mrs Longbottom but they just didn't understand what it was to be a child anymore (and they were always at work). Yeah, sure, you could call Frank a friend but the only reason James hung out with him was for lack of other people his age. Yes, James liked Frank but Frank just wasn't… his _best_ friend and James wanted one of those. Frank was far too brainy in James opinion. He probably wouldn't mind if Frank just stopped bugging James to start studying for a school they weren't to go to for about a year. When James told Frank this Frank's reply startled James into silence.

"If we don't study now then we won't _have_ a school to go to next year."

James hadn't thought of that.

Now, don't mistake me, James did _not_ start studying – no, he merely started worrying whether he would actually be chosen to go to a school or not. Like I told you earlier, James covered up all of this worry with bombarding pranks on the supposed culprit (A.K.A Frank) all of the time but no matter how many times he changed Frank's hair neon orange or made him dance like a ballerina the worry stayed at the pit of his stomach like some indigested food. It most certainly hurt as much as that. This, plus being lonely, was an inner torture for James. Thankfully, he soon had the distraction of his 10th birthday party. His parents said there was going to be a big surprise but unless they had a box of 10-year old friends and a letter that states he was chosen by his parents' old school then he doubted it would be quite as pleasing as they thought it would be.

James was awoken by a sudden thud outside his room.

"Harold! You'll wake James! It's _supposed_ to be a _surprise_ party!" said a very familiar female voice that James was too tired to recognise or understand. He rolled over and put his pillow over his head to try and block out the noise from the hallway outside of his bedroom.

"Sorry, Lizzy. It's just, this box has so much stuffing in it. Unless that's how heavy the Nimbus 2.0 is."

That woke him up.

James jumped out of his bed – still tangled in his sheets – and charged into his door. It opened easier than he had thought it would so James ended up falling onto the floor. The pain wasn't annoying at all, what was annoying was that there was a box containing the latest and best broomstick model yet less than a metre from him and he hadn't gotten to it yet.

"It looks like you did wake him up, Harold," spoke his mother with a slightly amused but disappointed tone. James didn't care. All he cared about was opening that box but these stupid sheets just wouldn't untangle.

"Do you need a hand, bud?" offered his father. James stretched out his hand. In any other situation, James would probably feel ashamed of having to have been helped onto his own feet but this was the Nimbus 2.0. He no longer had shame.

Now that his father had gotten him out of those dreaded sheets, James could see the scene in front of him. His father with his unruly jet-black hair and his soft hazel eyes that he had passed onto his son was standing there, slightly red and sweaty, with a giant grin on his face as if it was his own birthday rather than his son's. He often looked like this on James' birthdays. James supposed it was a father thing. Looking at his beautiful mother with her perfectly neat, chestnut-brown hair and her ocean-blue eyes stood on the other side of the pure white hall with an almost shy grin as James flung himself to hug her. Oh how he loved his parents.

His birthday had actually been really enjoyable and after it he felt older, braver than before. He now told himself, when he felt lonely or worried, that in just a year he'd have a great selection of people to befriend as he _will_ get into his parents' school. He just had to or he didn't think he could live with himself. But really, things were looking up for little James Potter, despite anyone believing that James Potter's life couldn't look any higher up. Little did he know of the adventures to come after his 11th birthday…


End file.
